At night, I left a sketchy gas station store with a six pack. On the five-yard journey to my car, a guy was lurking next to the ice boxes and told me to give him a beer. I laughed at him to send an only partially true message that I wasn't scared of him. I got in my car and drove away. Maybe I brought him out of his sphere of strength and into my own. Then I did something we're not taught often enough in Aikido: I evaded, the opposite of entering, by choosing a different convenience store from then on.